Alan Delgado Spent Four Years Chasing the Perfect Flour Tortilla
Briefly

Alan Delgado Spent Four Years Chasing the Perfect Flour Tortilla
"People make the trip to the border of Fort Greene and Clinton Hill because Delgado's burritos are different from anything else in the city. They're Juárez-style, longer, slimmer, and far simpler than their rice-and-cheese-stuffed, "guac is extra" Americanized cousins. For one thing, there is no rice. Just a thin layer of beans and a spoonful of slow-simmered guisado in one of four varieties: pork braised in red chile, beef and potatoes in salsa verde, frijoles con queso, and chicken mole."
"In an inversion of the usual burrito math - where the tortilla is a vehicle for the fillings - Delgado's relatively austere burritos are a showcase for his flour tortillas, puffed on a griddle and pillowy soft. Delgado grew up in and around El Paso, Texas, and he remembers how he felt when he ordered a burrito after leaving home: "I was quite insulted.""
"The first problem presented itself early in the process: Prior to this, he didn't have any professional experience working with dough. "What I did know was how I wanted it to taste - I was chasing the memory of being a kid in Juárez and El Paso, eating those incredible tortillas," he says. So he experimented with different flours, fats, water temperatures, kneading times, resting periods, rolling methods,"
Alan Delgado opened Los Burritos Juárez, a small red storefront on Myrtle Avenue in August that sells out daily and draws a line by late morning. The burritos are Juárez-style: longer, slimmer, and simpler than Americanized versions, with no rice and only a thin layer of beans plus a spoonful of slow-simmered guisado offered in four varieties: pork braised in red chile, beef and potatoes in salsa verde, frijoles con queso, and chicken mole. The tortillas are puffed on a griddle and pillowy soft. Delgado moved to Brooklyn in 2020 and devoted himself to perfecting flour, fats, temperatures, kneading, resting, and rolling methods to chase childhood tortilla memories.
Read at Grub Street
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